Town reset In a matter of weeks Holy ones rising Upsetting the peace And when your crown Slipped away Leaving his throne empty He threw his country away Knocking at your door They want your family & more The king is dead And the country is at war But just a plane ride away In our restaurants and clubs Where people dance and Waiters wear gloves.

This poem is a response to one my dad wrote by the same name. It is included below. White Hair I figure you were finally caught by the old man you tried to chase away. I think I saw him too at my dusk and your dawn, in the morning after too much wishing I could carry you along. Maybe Calvin Senior came and pulled you away you wrote how smart men do this each in their own way. I know you’d never leave without a fight, never gently into that good night. But now that you are out

Rain I brace a table I embrace a name I hope I see your ghost After all this rain. My chest splits open As part of you moves in, But I’m sewn up all wrong And don’t know where to begin. Raised by the player  who knew the blues run the game I hope I see his ghost After all this rain. My head closes up As too much of you moves out, My memories sing and fade Like water in a drought. Your heart, your heart Like a strange machine gave out The heart that cried wolf, But could no lo

Two moments in time, forever in mind October 2000, sitting on the edge of the hill, what a great view A sunset, ¢1 lollipops, our hearts filled with joy "Say goodbye!" grandma yells from down below, "Five more minutes!" I reply, taking in the last sunshine glow Deep inhale, the smell of wet dirt and handmade tortillas Hand in hand, we climb down together - one last hug so tight Tears fall, "I'll see you soon!" a promise so bright March 2013, a different edge, a different view